Message-ID: <29402asstr$984744604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Return-Path: <nessus29@hotmail.com>
From: "Louis Nessus" <nessus29@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed
X-Original-Message-ID: <F96I76rOJhKPc99ir3w00001021@hotmail.com>
X-OriginalArrivalTime: 16 Mar 2001 04:51:21.0090 (UTC) FILETIME=[BEB9E620:01C0ADD4]
Subject: {ASSM} NEW NESSUS:Protection16/18
Date: Fri, 16 Mar 2001 07:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/29402>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, english

This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or 
whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy 
scenes of graphic sexual activity.   Please, if you are under the age of 18, 
or if you may be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read 
no further - delete the file.  Otherwise ....enjoy!


Protection
Book One of a Political Saga

By

Nessus


Chapter Sixteen


There was a small jazz group playing in the corner when I arrived. The young 
singer with bleached hair sounded like a young Eartha Kitt and I listened 
for a moment before moving through the crowd to the far wall. The room was 
panelled with a dark timber and was a large rectangular shape with a series 
of French doors leading to a walled terrace that overlooked the city.

A waiter offered me a tray of drinks and I took a glass of mineral water and 
inspected the oil paintings as I waited for Copeland to arrive.  My heart 
was pounding and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sylvia enter which made 
me more nervous. Discreetly, I watched as she expertly worked the room, 
moving from group to group, adding to her network as she left one group to 
move to the next.

She paused when she found herself with me and I watched as she mentally 
calculated if I was important enough to meet, let alone spend time with. 
"Hello," she said with that forced cheeriness of hers. "I'm Sylvia Rochner."

I bowed slightly. "Yuki Toshiro. I am very pleased to meet you."

"Yuki?" she said brightly. "Is that Japanese?"

I bowed again. "That is very astute of you. Yes, I am Japanese," I added, 
smiling politely when she looked at me in surprise, wondering if I was 
mocking her but she decided it was in the translation.

"I'm a political consultant," she announced. "And you?"

"Ah," I said, ignoring her question. "Political consultant is such an 
important role. Who do you consult with?" I asked politely.

She was flattered and smiled condescendingly. "I work with Jennifer Garret, 
the Minister of Health. Have you heard of her?"

I bowed slightly to hide my smile. Birds of a feather flock together. "Yes, 
I have heard of that lady. She will be your leader soon?"

Sylvia lowered her voice. "Anything is possible. Wonderful to meet you." She 
moved off and I suppressed a smile.

There was a flurry of activity at the door and I saw Ernest Copeland make a 
grand entrance so I moved slightly to one side so I would be seen examining 
a lithograph entitled  `A Party Angling'.

I studied it for a few minutes and I could feel him watching me as he moved 
closer and closer until he was standing next to me. "A pretty scene," he 
said in his Eton accent and, I nodded politely, keeping my eyes focussed on 
the painting. "Two ladies and four men fishing. Or is there more to it?" he 
teased.

I nodded slowly. "Three of the males are brothers to the ladies but one is a 
friend to their brother." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was 
take aback.

"What makes you say that?"

"It is in the art," I said. "All the men are absorbed in their fishing but 
the two women are absorbed in one man. They are both staring at the crotch 
of that man, wondering as all women do, I think, about the size of his 
penis. They appear flushed," I added, turning to face him. "Do you agree?"

Copeland also appeared flushed. "I don't know. I must admit I've always seen 
that as just a quaint scene with no hint of sex at all. Now that I look at 
it through your eyes, well.  You know your art?"

"I have never seen this before," I said calmly. "Sensuality is in 
everything. Look and all will be revealed."

He looked down at me, his eyes darting over me from beneath their bushy 
eyebrows. "Interesting." He seemed about to say something when a man 
interrupted, slapped him on the shoulder after whispering in his ear and 
moved on.

Copeland caught the arm of a waiter and took a gin from the tray. The waiter 
offered me and I smiled and gave a short shake of the head. "I'm Ernest 
Copeland," he said with force so I would know he was important.

I bowed. "Yuki Toshiro."

"And what brings you to this boring event, Yuki?" he asked heartily as he 
drained his drink.

"An invitation," I said solemnly and he laughed.

"Are you with the Japanese Embassy?" he asked and I bowed again, not really 
lying but just avoiding answering. "Political functions, the bane of our 
existence. Who do you know here?"

I looked around the room. "There is no one familiar to me."

"Let me be your guide," he said, taking my elbow and leading me to a group 
of people talking near the doors leading to the terrace. "Ladies and 
gentlemen," he said his forceful voice immediately halting the groups 
conversation, "let me introduce you to Yuki Toshiro from the Embassy of 
Japan." He smiled down at me. "Did I pronounce that correctly?

I gave him a shy smile. "That was very excellent," I said and I saw some of 
the women in the group suppress giggles.

Copeland went around the group naming names that I instantly forgot until he 
got to Sylvia who was standing next to a woman I knew from my past life. 
"We've met, Ernest," Sylvia interrupted and gave me a quick smile. "Hello 
Yuki."

"Ah," said Copeland, raising a bushy eyebrow. "You do know someone here."

I lowered my eyes. "We exchanged courtesies, I do not suspect we know each 
other from that."

A few more giggles and the woman next to Sylvia, Diana Vaughan laughed 
openly. "Touche. Who really knows Sylvia?" The group laughed. "Why are you 
here, Yuki," she asked. "I'm Diana Vaughan, by the way." Diana was of West 
Indian descent and a researcher in the Treasurers office. Our eyes locked 
for a moment and I wondered if she had recognised a remnant of Harvey Garret 
but she gave me a warm smile.

"It is nice to meet you," I said tilting my head slightly in her direction. 
"I am new to this city and I believe it is my obligation to accept all 
invitations to grow to understand.

"Admirable," Copeland boomed and the conversation resumed, leaving me to one 
side as Copeland was pulled away by two serious young men. I drifted to the 
French doors and wandered out onto the dark terrace, looking at the city 
lights scattered under a cloudy night sky. It wasn't cold, rather brisk and 
I pulled my wrap around me as I started to return. Just then two women 
walked onto the terrace through the other French door and stood in the 
centre as they lit their cigarettes. It was Sylvia and Diana and, as I was 
caught in the shadows at the far end, they hadn't noticed me but I could 
hear them clearly.

"Nice night," Diana said as she exhaled smoke.

Sylvia nodded. "Did you see that Jap woman with Copeland? He was practically 
drooling on her, the dirty old man."

"Poor girl. Have you ever seen anything like her? I mean, she is incredibly 
beautiful in a really exotic way."

"You kind of exotic yourself, dear," Sylvia said and Diana laughed. Shocked, 
I watched Sylvia give Diana a quick kiss and they held hands as they walked 
to the opposite end of the terrace to me. You learn something every day I 
thought as I slipped back into the party.

"There you are," Copeland said. "Terribly sorry to leave you, Yuki but I had 
some boring business to attend to."

"But necessary business," I added. "I would like to sit down if there is 
some where. I am sorry but I have been on my feet all day."

"Not at all. There are some seats there." He took my arm and led me to a 
corner where I arranged myself on a chair. "So," he began as he sat down, 
his eyes running briefly over my legs, "have you much experience in our 
country?"

I smiled. "I am new to your country. A virgin, so to speak."

"Surely not," he mocked and I giggled behind my hand. "I'm sure you've 
enjoyed many lovers. A woman as beautiful as you would be the centre of 
attention wherever she went." He sipped his drink and his eyes lingered on 
my nylon covered legs for a moment so I delicately crossed them in front of 
him. "Are Japanese men any different to European men?" he asked casually, 
his eyes dropping regularly to the black nylon.

I appeared to think for a moment and then leaned forward slightly so I was 
closer to him and he could take in my perfume. "In some ways. Japanese men 
are the owners of fetish in Japan," I said softly but calmly and I noticed 
his eyes widened at that comment. "They are the owners of fetish," I 
repeated, "but we enjoy the fetish play as it puts us in the centre of their 
attention."

Copeland looked around quickly as he cleared his throat. "What kind of 
fetish?" he asked his voice hoarse.

I looked away as I appeared to think and then smiled back at him. "There are 
many, I have heard. Ropes, white socks and some dirty ones." I wrinkled my 
nose and he smiled briefly but he was watching me intently. "Ones to enjoy 
are men who like to look up a lady's skirt," I said demurely and he blinked 
a few times quickly. "And sensual ones like stockings and pantyhose." I 
looked him directly in the eyes when I said that and he licked his lips 
nervously. "May I please call you Ernest?" I asked softly and he nodded 
quickly so I moved closer to him. "I see many things, Ernest," I whispered 
to him and I saw a film of sweat on his forehead. "I see you have a 
fascination for my legs. I think you are the owner of a stocking or 
pantyhose fetish." He took his handkerchief from his breast pocket and 
dabbed his forehead. "Which one is it, Ernest?" I asked, a soft smile on my 
face and he stared at me as if he was hypnotised.

"Pantyhose," he croaked and I wondered if that was the first time that he 
admitted his fetish to anyone.

I smiled broadly at him. "I am glad it is not stockings, Ernest."

He wiped his face again. "Why?"  He asked hoarsely.

"Because I am wearing pantyhose," I whispered in his ear.

He stared at me as if he had been given an electric shock and he finished 
off his drink and seized another one from a passing waitress. "Yuki," he 
stuttered. "I'm a collector of paintings and, I was wondering if you would 
like to inspect them after this?" he gestured around at the room, his face 
covered in a sheen of sweat. I nodded demurely and he smiled like an excited 
teenage boy. "There is an underground car park," he whispered excitedly. 
"When I leave, go down there and I will be in the Jaguar. I have a driver 
who is really my bodyguard, I'm afraid," he said. "He'll be discreet, 
though." Copeland drained his drink and stood up. "All right?" he asked, 
suddenly afraid I may have changed my mind.

"I will wait for you to leave," I said solemnly. "I will then follow you, 
Ernest."

Relief flooded over his face and for a millisecond, I felt sympathy for him. 
"Yuki," he said breathlessly, paused and suddenly turned away to a group of 
people. "Hello," I heard his voice boom through the room.

The game was under way.

End Chapter Sixteen
(Nessus29@hotmail.com)
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading. This is my most ambitious work to date and it has a 
strange plot, unfolding as I work and I'm interested to see if it all fits 
together at the end. I'm clear about the first book and there are ideas for 
a second. Time will tell.
As always, interested in your comments (nessus29@hotmail.com) and all other 
Nessus stories are archived at www.asstr-mirror.org
By the way, the title is from the Massive Attack song "Protection". It will 
all fit together at the end if you listen to the song.

_________________________________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+